Cameron Deligure and the Mistake of the Sorting Hat
by lion-of-stone
Summary: It is rare, for someone to hate the house that they're sorted into, but it's made especially easy when your house mates hate you for something you can't control. "Mudblood," they sneer as Cameron Deligure walks by. Slytherin or not, he thinks, I'll always be mudblood to them.
1. Chapter 1: Introduction to Wizardry

The Deligure's lived a simple life in a neighborhood called Silverweed in a small town called Heather March. They lived in a white house with windows that were perfectly squared, and had a red front door. The front garden was always kept neat, with short grass and trimmed hedges. Mr. Deligure was in the army, and Mrs. Deligure was a hard working manager of a local flower shop. The both made sure that they were kept comfortable. The only thing that was in any way eccentric about this family was their son, Cameron.

Cameron's life started on November second. His mother woke up his father was screams, saying: "He's coming! He's coming! Our baby's coming!" She was driven to the hospital in a sunshine yellow bug, panting the whole while. The birthing process took seven hours, but when it was finally over, Mrs. Deligure was awarded with a healthy baby boy, whom she named Cameron.

As Cameron grew up, there was no denying he was an odd boy. He once came home from school with purple hair and no idea how it happened, and no one in the school had any dye. Another time, he'd grown half a foot in half an hour, which _everyone _knew was impossible. On and on the list went, the strange things this boy had done. The Deligures had no idea how to respond to these things, until, that is Cameron's eleventh birthday.

It was near noon, and the sun was high in sky, but the street was just as empty as five o'clock in the morning. It was because of this that no one noticed the old woman in green robes who appeared with a faint _pop_. The woman's hair was done up in a tight bun, and her features were sharp, and pointed, despite a sort of softness in her eyes. She shook herself slightly and gazed around the street, as though searching for something. Her eyes fell on house number seven, and she walked briskly towards it, attracting the stares of young Vanessa Rowley, who happened to glance out the window at just the right moment.

The woman stopped at the doorway of number seven, raised a wrinkled hand, and rang the bell. The door was answered by a small boy with brown hair and (the woman did a double take) mismatched eyes. One was brown, and the other was green. The woman knew immediately that this must be Cameron Deligure, the muggle-born.

"Hello," she greeted him warmly. "Is this the home of the Deligures?"

The boy nodded, still looking rather dazed. "Are you one of my father's foreign clients?"

Cameron had intuition, the woman noted. "I'm not a client, no. Are your parent's home? I'd like to speak with them."

Cameron nodded, and opened the door wider for the woman to enter. Once it was closed behind her, Cameron gazed up at her with his mismatched eyes, as though he had something he wanted to ask. After opening and closing his mouth multiple times, he finally said: "Would you like some tea?" which the woman suspected was not what he really wanted to ask her.

"Yes, thank you," said the woman, following Cameron to sitting room, where he told her to wait while he got his parents.

Shortly after the youngest Deligure left, his parents entered. After some introductions, Professor McGonagall (for that was the woman's name), advised the parents to sit down as she explained why she was here.

After she'd made a few brief statements, the Deligures were silent, and the only noises came from the kitchen, where Cameron was making the tea. "I know it's a lot to take in," Professor McGonagall said carefully.

Mr. Deligure shook his head slightly, saying "I always knew Cam was special, what with the tricks he can pull off, but I never thought he was a… a wizard!" and Mrs. Deligure nodded in agreement.

"Who's a wizard?" Cameron asked, entering the room with a tea tray filled with four cups and a plate of biscuits.

"You." Mrs. Deligure said, seemingly incapable of forming a full sentence. Cameron's mismatched eyes widened, and his grip on the tea tray faltered. It slipped from his hands and fell to the floor was crash. The plate and cups shattered and the tray split in half.

"Mum, I'm so sorry! Those were your best dishes! I didn't mean-" Cam apologized frantically, but he was cut off, watching as the tray and dishes floating into the air and reassembling themselves. The Deligures turned to look at McGonagall, eyes widened.

"Did- did you-?" Mr. Deligure stuttered, and the professor nodded.

"That is a very basic spell; Cameron will be able to do things like that very quickly."

Cameron stared at the professor, and suddenly it was like floodgates opened. "So all the stuff I can do, it's magic? Will I have to go to a special school? What will I learn about? Are you a witch or are you called a wizard too?"

McGonagall smiled. Usually it took much more than this to convince the Muggles of the existence of magic, but this family seemed to accept it from the start. "Yes, what you can do is magic. As for the school, I am actually here to extend an invitation to Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry. There, you will learn a variety of different things, such as Transfiguration and Potions. I am called a witch."

Cameron gazed towards his parents. "Can I go?"

His parents grinned at him. "Just let us get a few questions answered, and then we'll see."

Professor McGonagall smiled. "Hogwarts is a boarding school," she informed them. "But he will be allowed to return home for the Christmas holidays as well as during the summer."

The parents nodded, and the conversation continued this way until, "Where will he get his supplies? I don't think wizards get pens and calculators."

"There's a place hidden from non-magic view, called the Leaky Caldron. We will be meeting you, along with a few other muggle parents, on August Twentieth, should you wish Cameron to attend. Here are instructions on how to get there." She handed them a slip of parchment. "And here is your supply list." She handed Cameron an envelope.

"Now," she said, standing. "I really must go. We will send you an owl- owls carry our post- closer to when the school year starts with some more information." And with that, she turned on her heel and vanished.

"Magic…" Cam sighed dreamily.

On August twentieth, Cam and his parents braved the streets of London and ended up inside a shabby looking pub. "The muggle-borns, eh?" said the barman, Tom. "Yep, Prof. McGonagall will be here soon. Can I interest you in a drink?"

They politely turned down his offer, and Cameron scurried off to look around. The pub was a dreary and shabby as Cameron had originally thought, but it was filled with some amazing items and artifacts. A shining silver horn, claiming to be from a unicorn, hung on one wall. A snow-globe shaped object contained a moving model of the solar system.

And then, quite apart from the items were the people themselves. A person (Cameron couldn't decide if they were male or female) was wrapped head to toe in purple shawls. A young boy in a top hat kept leaning over to sip his father's drink. A witch dressed in black had a crooked nose and a large wart on her cheek.

Suddenly Cameron's attention was torn away from these people, and towards a different group that had just entered the pub, and was headed by Professor McGonagall. "Hello, my name is Professor McGonagall, and I am the Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts. With me are Professors Snape, and Flitwick. We will be your guides through Diagon Ally today. Professor Flitwick, please guide the Monroe's, I will show the Keep's, and Professor Snape, you can lead the Deligures."

The hook-nosed greasy-haired teacher sneered at them, and Cameron was privately reminded of a hawk.

Shortly after this, they split off into their groups, and Snape approached them. "Follow me," he said by way of introduction.

Cameron and his parents stayed close to their guide, none of them daring to speak until Snape rounded on Cameron and asked: "What do you know about magic, Mr. Deligure?"

"Not much, sir, only what Professor McGonagall told us about earlier this month." He answered. "She talked about Transfiguration, which sounds complicated, and Charms, which sounds mildly entertaining, truth be told. But what sounded the most interesting to me was potions." Cameron realized he was rambling, and added a hasty: "Sir,"

"Hmm," Snape responded, turning back around, and side stepping to reveal the magical wonders of Diagon Ally. Cameron's jaw almost dropped. There were shops selling cauldrons, shops selling robes, and one shop boasted a sign that read: "Pickled Beetle Eyes- 2 jars for the price of 1!"

At the very end of the street was a huge marble building, with huge pillars and glass doors. Snape saw where Cameron's mismatched eyes were looked and informed him that: "That's Gringotts, finest wizarding bank in all of the UK. We'll be going there first."

They wandered toward the bank, Cameron and his parents looking around in wonder. "Glad I'm on leave for a few more months," Cameron heard his father mutter to himself.

Snape stopped at the front door of the bank to explain how the changing of the money worked. Cameron, who didn't much care about that, stared at the doorman, who had knobby skin, a long misshapen nose, floppy ears and was only about Cameron's height. If he'd had to wager a guess as to what it was, he'd say-

"Goblin, yes, now let's go in!" Snape snapped. "We haven't all day, you know."

Cameron scrambled into the building, only to be greeted by more goblins. As his parents went off to greet one and exchange their money, Cameron and Snape were left alone. "Mr. Deligure," Snape drawled. "Are you aware that I am the potions professor?"

The brown haired boy's interest peeked. "No, I didn't know that, sir."

"Yes, potions," Snape said with the ghost of what might've been a smile. "There's nothing quite like a simmering cauldron."

"What sort of potions is there, sir?" Cameron asked eagerly.

"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and put a stopper on love, if you're clever enough."

"Wow," Cameron breathed. "That's amazing!"

"Yes. Do you have any question about Hogwarts?"

Cameron realized that if got Snape talking, he was much more likely to be friendly. "Er… yes sir. At one of the other secondary schools I looked at, before I knew I was magic, they sorted people into Houses by some sort of aptitude test. Do you do something like that at HogwartsHogwarts?"

Snape nodded. "Something like that, yes. The houses are Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. Each one has its own unique history and background. Gryffindor's are known for being brave. Slytherin's for manipulation. Ravenclaw's are set apart by their cleverness and Hufflepuff's for being friendly."

Cameron felt a knot form in his stomach; he didn't feel like any of those things. Instead of replying, he just nodded and waited for his parents to return.

After Gringotts, the first place they went was the Apothecary, to buy potions ingredients. Cameron was enamored with the many different magical items that were used. Unicorn tail hairs (three galleons a bunch), beetle eyes (seven sickles a scoop), and dragons blood (seventeen galleons a pint) lined the shelves, or were stacked in barrels. Snape helped him chose a good cauldron and a nice set of scales.

"You'll want an owl to carry your post," Snape announced after leaving Madam Malkin's and headed towards Eeylops Owl Emporium.

The shop, as par its name, was filled with owls. Despite this, it didn't take long for a fully black owl with yellow eyes to catch Cameron's attention. He approached the bird, who tipped its head to the side. "Pickett," Cameron decided. "Pickett is a good name for you."

The Deligures, and Snape, suddenly appeared at his side. "It this the one you want, honey?" asked Mrs. Deligure.

"Yes, Mum. Her name is Pickett." Cameron said, grinning.

"Good name, son." said his father, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "Now let's pay and get out of here."

Laden down with packages, the party, led by Snape, walked down the street towards Ollivanders. "A wand," Snape said. "Is the most important tool for a wizard to have. You will perform spells, learn to defend yourself, and even complete potions with your wand."

Ollivanders was an odd shop, with only one rickety stool and a small desk. The adults waited outside as Cameron went in on his own. "I don't believe I've had the honor of serving your family, young man," said a voice. "What is your name?"

"C-Cameron," He answered, suddenly nervous. "Cameron Deligure."

A man with white hair came out from behind the desk and grinned oddly at Cameron. "No, no. I haven't served a Deligure in all my time working here. You must be a muggle-born."

"Yes, sir,"

"Come, closer my boy. I don't bite. Here, try this wand." Mr. Ollivander handed Cameron a short brown wand. "Pine, with unicorn tail hair-"

Cameron tried, but Ollivander took it away rather quickly. "No, no, now this one-"

On and on it went, until (as Cameron was good with numbers, he knew this) the forty second wand. "Here," said Mr. Ollivander. "It's sycamore with dragon heartstring, thirteen inches, and unbending."

The minute Cameron touched the wand; he knew it was the one. He raised it above his head and brought it down in a shower of green sparks.

"Beautiful," Mr. Ollivander sighed, and Cameron payed eight galleons for his wand.

After stopping for a quick bite at the Leaky Cauldron, the Deligures headed home, chatting about the amazing magical things they had seen, and Cameron waiting almost desperately for September the first.

**A/N- Whew! That took me a REALLY long time to write. Still, I'm super happy with how it turned out. **

**For those of you who don't know, Cameron Deligure is an OC I created for Veritaserum-Girl 's fanfiction I Know Something You Don't, which is an amazing story. This was designed for a bit of background about Cameron, and takes place one year before Harry Potter and crew come to Hogwarts. **

**Fun Fact: Cam's wand in my wand on Pottermore! Why don't you add me? AshCastle8484**

**Thanks for reading!  
**

**Lion. :)  
**


	2. Chapter 2: The Sorting Hat's Mistake

"What do you mean a boarding school in Scotland?" Mariah asked, turning her head to look Cameron in the eyes. They were lying on the ground of her front garden, which was right next door to the Deligures. Her younger sister, Vanessa, was drawing with chalk on the pavement in front of them. "I thought you were going to Eton with me?" Mariah added.

Cameron sighed. He hated lying to Mariah, but it was the only way. "I want to, believe me, but it's some sort of family tradition for the oldest male to go there. My uncle went, but not my dad. Then my uncle had only girls, so I have to go." Lie, but it was the perfect cover story. Mariah wouldn't question it.

"Oh," She sighed, turning to watch her sister for a moment. "What's it called?"

Cameron hesitated. He wanted to tell the truth as much as he could. "Hogwarts,"

"Hogwarts? What kind of name is that?" Mariah laughed.

"One of the founders, I think." Lie; none of the four founders were called Hogwarts.

"Oh. How will you get there?"

"Train,"

"Cool. I'll write you." Mariah said, smiling at him.

"That's the worst part; they only allow letters from the parents." Lie, but it was easier than explaining owl post.

"That's awful, they must be really strict." Cameron nodded and Mariah continued. "I'll just give me letters to your parents, and they can send them." She decided with a mischievous smile.

Cameron laughed. "I know I'm going to be far away, but you're still my favorite."

"And you're mine," Mariah grinned. "Just don't go find any starlets,"

"I don't think there's any starlets in Scotland," Mariah shot him a look, and he added: "But even if there were, they'd have nothing on you."

Mariah smiled, and Cameron leaned over to plant a quick kiss on her lips.

On September first, the Deligures climbed into their car, with Pickett next to Cameron in the backseat, and his trunk in the boot. They were on their way to Kings Cross Station, where they would board the Hogwarts Express through a magic platform called nine and three quarters.

"Read Professor McGonagall's instructions out, again, son?" Mr. Deligure requested.

"When you get to Kings Cross, put your things in a trolley and go to the ticket barrier between platforms nine and ten, and run at it. Don't worry, you won't feel a thing; you'll just appear at the magic platform nine and three quarters. Cameron just has to board the train before eleven o'clock, and everything else will take care of itself." Cameron read, grinning.

"Sound so interesting," Mrs. Deligure said. "You'd better tell me everything, young man!"

Cameron agreed that he would, and they spent the rest of the ride talking about what classes he was looking forward to, and which of the teachers he'd met seemed the coolest.

They arrived at the station not long after this. After attracting a lot of strange looks because of Pickett, they headed over to the ticket barrier. Cameron gripped tightly on his trolley as he rushed at said ticket barrier. He braced himself for the crash, only mildly aware of his parents behind him, and closed his eyes tightly…

When he opened his eyes the scene had changed. A bright scarlet steam engine ran down the center of the station, and the people surrounding it were just so… wizard. A group of students were gathered around a pair of identical twins, and Cameron swore he heard someone say: "What do you mean 'invented new hex'? Does your mom know?"

A little ways down the line, a group of teenage witches were squealing over a magazine. "Oh my gosh! Lockhart won the Witch Weekly Smile Award again!"

"He totally deserves it, look at that face!" Said the second, pointing at the magazine.

Cameron caught a glimpse of Lockhart and thought privately that he wasn't all that attractive. He turned back towards his parents, who were smiling down at him. "Oh, do write!" cried his mother, flinging her arms around her sons' neck.

"Course I will, Mum." Cameron promised, working his way out of her grasp.

Mr. Deligure reached down and pulled Cameron into a hug, whispering: "I don't know if I'll be there for Christmas, so you'd better write me… at least once a week. Tell me everything."

"You bet Dad!" Cameron agreed, and the two pulled apart. "I'm going to go find a compartment now. I'll see you at Christmas!"

Cameron turned away from his parents and looked back at the train. He made his way towards the train, slowly, as he was holding both his trunk and Pickett in her cage.

He clambered into the train, wandering until he found an empty compartment. There, he put his trunk on the seat opposite him and let Pickett out of her cage. "Meet me at Hogwarts," he instructed as she took out of the window.

He sat down and curled up with his potions textbook. Shortly after this, he was so absorbed in the Drought of Living Death that he didn't even realize that train was moving.

Several hours later, Cameron had switched from potions to History of Magic, and he almost didn't realize that his compartment door had slid open. His head snapped up, and he saw a tall brown haired boy standing in the doorway.

"Er, hello," Cameron greeted. "I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?"

The boy entered into the compartment and took a seat. "I'm Richard Adams, head boy. It's my job to go around and greet any muggle-borns or transfer students."

"Oh,"

Cameron said blankly.

"Yes," Richard replied. "Do you have any questions about the school?"

"Professors McGonagall and Snape answered most of them," Cameron answered.

"You know them?" Richard said, clearly surprised.

"They were my family's guides in Diagon Ally."

"Oh. Well, if you do have any questions, just said me an owl. And that goes for while we're at school too." Richard stood up and started to leave. "You should change into your school robes. We'll be there soon."

Cameron closed the door behind Richard and pulled down the cover so that he could change.

After being instructed to leave his things on the train, Cameron joined the throng of people to get off. He stood on the concrete of the station, looking around for where he was supposed to go.

"Firs' years!" Cameron's head snapped towards the voice and his jaw dropped.

It was the biggest man he'd ever seen. He was at least eight feet tall, slightly round and had a big bushy beard.

"Firs' Year! Is that all the firs' years?" Cameron scrambled to join the throng of first years.

"Alrigh' firs' years. I'm Hagrid, keeper o' the keys at Hogwarts. You'll follow me to the boats, and then we'll go to the school."

Cameron followed slightly behind the rest of the group, preferring to watch them all, his mismatched eyes glowing with anticipation. When they arrived at the boats, he joined in one that had two boys and a girl with a long black braid. The girl turned around to smile at him and said: "Merlin! Your eyes are different colors!"

"Yeah, they are, lovely." He said, winking his green eye.

The girl giggled. "What's you name?"

"Cameron Deligure, but you can call me Cam. And yours?"

"Clara Keep, I think we met at the muggle-born meet up."

"You do loo familiar," Cameron said thoughtfully.

The two continued to talk about how they found out about magic, until...

"You'll be gettin' your firs' look at the school now!" Hagrid called.

"Wow," Clara breathed.

'Wow' pretty much summed it up. It was a huge castle, with brightly lit windows, and towers, and enormous grounds.

"You're telling me," Cameron agreed.

Soon after this, the boats came to a stop, and the first year clambered out.

Clara and Cameron talked all the way up to the castle, laughing and joking, and getting to know each other. Hagrid pounded on the castle door, and it swung open to reveal Professor McGonagall.

"The Firs' years, Professor," Hagrid said.

"Thank you Hagrid, why don't you head to the feast now?"

Hagrid nodded and trooped inside the castle. Once his footsteps had died away, McGonagall invited them inside.

Cameron gasped when he entered the entrance hall. It was bigger than hi whole house, with chandeliers and paintings- that moved! "Mariah would kill to see this," he murmured.

"Who's Mariah?" Clara asked, peering at him through chocolate brown eyes.

Cameron's whole demeanor changed. His eyes lit up, his smile widened, and he seemed a little taller. "My girlfriend. She wants to be a architect, so seeing a place like this would drive her mad."

"Ooo," Clara teased with a knowing smile. "Cameron's got a girlfriend!"

"Cam," he corrected. "I like Cam better. And yes, I have a girlfriend. She's amazing."

Clara smiled brightly. "That is so cute."

Cameron rolled his eyes. McGonagall led them to an empty classroom, and told them to wait there until she came back to get them to be sorted.

Clara looked nervously at Cameron. "Do you know how we're being sorted?" Cameron shook his head and she continued, "I wonder if we'll have to do magic..."

"Merlin, I hope not," Cameron said, having picked up the expression from Clara, who heard some older students using it. "I don't know anything about magic except it's history and bit about potions."

"It wouldn't exactly be fair to make us do magic, especially the muggle-borns." Clara agreed.

They waited in a nervous silence until McGonagall came back and told them to form a line and follow her.

Cameron and Clara got in line next to each other. As they entered the great hall, they looked up to see the ceiling, and saw it was mirroring the night sky. "Bet Mariah would love that, too," Clara whispered from in front of Cameron, but he didn't hear. He was distracted by looking at the different houses, and running through what Snape had told him at Diagon Ally. Hufflepuff, for the friendly. Ravenclaw, for the smart. Gryffindor, for the brave. And Slytherin, for the cunning.

He was so wrapped up in his nervous thoughts he didn't realize they were at the front until he nearly ran into Clara.

It was also then that he realized everyone was staring at a hat on a stool- an old, faded wizard hat- so he stared at it too.

And then it started to _sing. _

Cameron couldn't really pay attention, but he got the gist of it. Each of the four founders liked a certain type of student, and they hand picked the students they wanted to teach. However, they realized they wouldn't be around forever, and enchanted the hat to chose for them. The Sorting Hat, as it was called, could see inside his head and would chose the best house for him.

"All we have to do is try on a hat?" Clara sounded relived, but Cameron only smiled weakly.

He felt the knot in his stomach grow. What if the hat didn't have a place to put him? What if he tried it on and he didn't belong in any of the houses?

He mentally shook himself. Of course he belonged in a house. He just didn't know which one...

Through the A's and B's and C's... Then the D-A's and then, finally, the D-E's.

"Deligure, Cameron."

Cameron walked slowly up to the stool, looking more confident then he felt. He placed the hat in his head, and it fell past his mismatched eyes, plunging him into darkness.

_"Deligure, eh?"_ Said the hat, not out to the whole school, more of a harsh whisper in his ear.

Cameron knew that the hat could see his thoughts, so instead of talking aloud, he just thought: "What of it?"

_"Your a tricky one..."_ The hat went on._ "Caring, yes, but not friendly. You'll stand up for people you care about, but your not brave. Observant, but not intelligent."_

Cameron's pulse quickened. The only house that the hat hasn't immediately shot down was- he gulped- Slytherin. Hadn't Snape said Slytherin was known for being cruel, malicious- evil, even? Was Cameron really any of those things?

_"Yes, yes, I think that's the place for you. SLYTHERIN!"_ And Cameron heard the last word shouted out to the whole hall.

He stood up, feeling rather shaky, and made his way to the Slytherin table. The people there looked semi-pleased at receiving their first new student, and were giving polite golfer claps.

He took a seat near the front of the table and waited for Clara's sorting. Was it bad for him to wish she would be in Slytherin?

Clara was sorted, and Cameron clapped along with the Ravenclaw table, because he was happy for her, he really was, and maybe just a little jealous.

After Clara's sorting, Cameron turned his attention to his new house. A blonde girl next to him smiled in an _almost _welcoming way. "Pure-blood or half-blood?" she asked.

"Er...what?" Cameron asked, looking confused.

"Pure-blood, with both parents wizards, or half-blood with one parent wizard." The girl explained slowly.

"Neither," said Cameron, feeling rather bewildered. "I'm a muggle-born."

"A _mudblood_?" she gasped, and turned to her friend to whisper loudly: "We have a _mudblood _in our house this year!"

Turning away, Cameron decided he didn't like that girl very much.

Not long after this, the feast started. Grinning broadly, Cameron piled his plate with food. Mashed potatoes, gravy, turkey... stuffing just by the blonde girls elbow... some peas, and a bit of cranberry sauce...

As he ate, he listened to a group of three boys talking. One of them included him in the conversation. "Deligure, right?" asked the boy.

"Yeah, I'm Cam," he introduced himself.

"I'm Todd," said the boy. "I don't recognize the name Deligure, and my parents had me memorize all the pure-blood names... So you're a half-blood, yeah?"

"No," Cameron said bluntly. "I'm a muggle-born."

"Nah, you can't be. He can't be a mudblood, can he, Benny?" Todd said, with a sort of drawl in his voice.

"Nope," said Benny, popping the 'p.' "Slytherin hated mudbloods, no way one could end up in his house."

"Yeah," agreed the third boy, shoving an entire roll in his mouth.

"Right, right. Nice joke Deligure," Todd said, turning back to Cameron.

"I'm not joking," said Cameron, suddenly feeling very brave- maybe the sorting hat was wrong; maybe he _did _belong in Gryffindor. "My mum's a florist, and my dad's in the army. Their both muggles."

"You really are a mudblood?" Todd and Benny gasped in unison, and the unnamed third boy dropped his roll. Then all three scooted a little ways away, as though Cameron had some sort of disease.

Cameron lost his appetite. He didn't belong here, not in Slytherin. The sorting hat must have made a mistake. Of course he was brave, hadn't he defended the boy being bullied last year? Of course he was smart, hadn't he been the one who figured out who nicked the teachers car keys? Of course he was friendly, hadn't he made the new girl feel welcome last year?

He would've fit in anywhere else, anywhere but Slytherin. Now that he had it figured out though, Cameron felt a little happier. He'd get it fixed tomorrow, and everything would be okay. He even regained enough appetite to eat a little pudding.

After Headmaster Dumbledore had give a few announcements, they were sent of to bed. "Mind you remember the way," said the Prefect who was guiding him and the other Slytherin first years.

Cameron wasn't worried about forgetting the way. As soon as he was shown anything, he'd remember it forever. He didn't even have to be paying attention to it. It was what his mum had called a photographic memory, but now Cameron wondered if it had to do with his magic.

Whether or not it did, however, was irrelevant. The point was he let his mind wander; what had fooled the sorting hat into thinking that Slytherin was a good place for him?

Soon, much sooner than Cameron had anticipated, they came to a stop. "The password's 'protest' and it will change next month," the prefect explained. At the word 'protest', the door slid open to reveal a common room done all in green and black. A purple flame was lit in the hearth, and skulls adorned the walls. "The dormitories are over that way," said the prefect, pointing. "Girls on the left, boys on the right."

Cameron entered the dormitory, and saw his trunk on the bed closest to the door, along with Pickett. "Hey, girl," Cameron greeted his owl, handing her a treat. "Hopefully we won't be here long," He added in an undertone as he changed into his nightclothes and climbed into bed.

That night, Cameron didn't dream.

**A/N: I was going to update on Saturday, but my computer shut down before I could save this, and then I couldn't write on Sunday, so I was writing it at school on Monday. Since I want to keep my updates regular, I'm updating on Tuesday! Hopefully (finger crossed like a hundred times) I'll be able to update twice this week. **

**Also, thanks to my two reviewers! Reviews to me are like love letters to most people. I re-read them again and again, and I treasure them forever. So thank you! Also, thank you to anyone who favorited or followed. It means a lot to me!**

**Thanks for reading, **

**Lion. **


	3. Chapter 3: Speaking to the Sorting Hat

Cameron had been half afraid that they would start classes the next day, but they had the day to familiarize themselves with the castle. So he asked Clara to come with him to find McGonagall, and they asked some older Ravenclaw students the way to her office. It took them a while, but soon enough, they arrived at a door with a gold marker that read: "Prof. M. McGonagall"

Cameron raised a hand and knocked lightly on the door. It swung open almost immediately after words, revealing an irritated McGonagall. When she saw Cameron, however, her eyes softened. "I can't say I wasn't expecting you," she said. "Come in, Mr. Deligure, and Ms. Keep," she added, when she saw Clara.

The two first years entered her office, looking around nervously. It wasn't anything spectacular though, so the quickly turned their attention back to the professor. Cameron cleared his throat and Clara nodded, edging him on.

"Er, Professor," Cameron started, but McGonagall cut him off.

"You don't feel like you belong in your house, do you?"

"How'd you know?" Cameron asked, both his green and brown eye showing wonder, but McGonagall only smiled sadly, so he continued. "Anyways, I know the hat must have made a mistake, so I was hoping I could try it again."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Deligure, but the sorting hat doesn't make mistakes."

"But I can't belong in Slytherin," Cameron said with an almost desperate tone. "Slytherin hated muggle-borns, I don't know why, but he did! And his whole house is the same, they're awful to me. It's on the second day, and I already woke up with bugs in my bed and hair died bright yellow!"

Professor McGonagall sighed. "I'm sorry, believe me, I am. But the Sorting Hat doesn't make mistakes."

"At least let me talk to it," Cameron pleaded. "Let me ask why I belong there?"

"I"ll speak to the headmaster," she relented. "And send you an owl."

"Okay," Cameron agreed, trying to calm his beating heart. "Okay, that sounds good."

"And Ms. Keep?" Clara looked up as McGonagall asked for her. "I know that Slytherin's aren't liked by the other houses, but do stay Cameron's friend. He'll need it."

Clara nodded and she and Cameron left the room. "I'm sorry you can't be resorted." she whispered, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

Cameron only shrugged, but Clara could see he was worried. Some of her house mates had said Slytherin was known for producing dark or evil wizards. Cameron was worried he might be evil.

Clara flipped around so she was in front of him and put out her hand to stop him moving. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. No matter what the sorting hat says, you are not evil. Okay?"

Cameron nodded, but didn't speak, so Clara pulled him into a hug."I bet you ten galleons that you make at least one friend in Slytherin."

Cameron laughed and hugged her back, murmuring "You're on!"

They spent the rest of the day together, exploring the castle. At two o'clock, a white owl swooped down and emptied a letter in Cameron's hand. It was short, but made Cameron look nervous. He turned it for Clara to read, and she suddenly understood why.

_Dear Mr. Deligure, _

_The headmaster has agreed to let you speak with the sorting hat. Come to my office immediately. You may bring Ms. Keep if you wish. _

_M. McGonagall_

"What are you waiting for?" Clara shrieked. "Let's go!"

Cameron nodded, looking dazed. "Okay," and he led the way to the Professor's office.

He entered with out knocking.

The hat was sitting on the desk, and two chairs were positioned in front of it. Cameron took a seat in one, and Clara in the other. It was only then that they realized not only McGonagall was there, but Dumbledore also. "Mr. Deligure, Ms. Keep," the Headmaster greeted.

"Er, hello Professor," Cameron said awkwardly.

"I believe you wanted to speak to the sorting hat, Mr. Deligure."

"Yes sir,"

"Go ahead," the headmaster said softly, leaning back.

Cameron reached out and put the hat on his head. Just as before, he was plunged into darkness. \

_"You again?" _the hat whispered.

Yes, Cameron thought.

_"What do you want?" _

To know why you put me in Slytherin.

_"Because you belong there." _

No, I don't, Cameron insisted. They hate muggle-borns. Slytherin hated muggle-borns. It's not right for me to be there.

_"Yes, it is. I don't make mistakes." _

But why? What makes me right for Slytherin, blood status aside.

_"You have to figure that out on you own." _

"Tell me!" Cameron said aloud, quietly, but aloud.

The hat was silent. Cameron took it off, fuming.

Dumbledore regarded Cameron through piercing blue eyes. "It might not seem like it, but the Sorting Hat is always right. You'll figure it out."

Cameron huffed. "Sure,"

Dumbledore stood, patted Cameron on the shoulder and walked out. Cameron looked down at his hands and saw that without his realizing, he had taken Clara's hand, searching for friendship and support. Clara smiled a little sadly at him, and they stood. Cameron let go of her hand, and they left the office. Once they had rounded several corners, tears spilled over Cameron's cheeks.

"They hate me," he muttered, leaning against a wall. "My house mates hate me, the hat won't tell me why I belong there, and the professors don't seem to understand!"

Clara didn't know what to say. Cameron had closed his eyes by this time, as though trying to stop the tears. Clara went and stood beside him. "You'll always have me," she muttered.

His eyes opened, and he turned his head to look her in the eyes. "Ah, lovely. I don't know if I could survive if I didn't."

"I'm always going to be your friend, and not just because McGonagall told me to. You're more than just your house, don't let it define you. okay?"

"Alright," Cameron sighed, wiping his tears. "I think it's almost time for dinner. Do you want to get to the great hall?"

"I don't remember the way."

"I do," Cameron told her, and he started walking at a slow, steady pace.

"How do you remember? This castle is huge!" Clara asked, falling into step beside him.

He shrugged. "Whenever anyone shows me something, I remember."

"Photographic memory?"

"Maybe, I don't really know."

"Weird," Clara said, and Cameron nodded in agreement.

They arrived at the great hall just as the food was showing up. They sat together at the Ravenclaw table, as they were some off the only people there. "You can sit here whenever you want," Clara told him.

"Am I allowed?" He wondered.

"I hope so, it's not fair to make you sit with people who hate you."

"My dad always says that life isn't fair."

"And anyone who tells you different is selling something," Clara quoted.

"Princess Bride?" Cameron guessed.

"One of my favorites."

"It is pretty good."

They ate in silence for a minute.

"Clara?"

"Cam?"

"Did- I mean, did the sorting hat give you a reason why you were in Ravenclaw and not the other houses?"

Clara thought for a moment. "It said I was smart, clever, witty and intelligent, all the characteristics Ravenclaw valued."

"Oh,"

"Cam?"

"Clara?"

"What did the hat say to you?"

"He said...well, mostly he said what I wasn't. Apparently, I'm not friendly, or brave, or intelligent. He didn't say what made me a Slytherin though."

"Oh,"

After dinner, Clara went towards the Ravenclaw tower, and Cameron to the dungeons. He let his mind wander to anything, and it fell on Mariah. Mariah would know what to say, he knew she would. He arrived at the entrance, gave the password, and entered the common room. It was full of people.

"Mudblood," they hiss as Cameron walks by. Slytherin or not, he thought, I'll always be mudblood to them.

He entered his dormitory, and the two people who were in there before him stopped talking and scurried out. Cameron sighed and sat on his bed, stroking Pickett. Then it came to him. He would write to Mariah. Why hadn't he though of it earlier?

He pulled out some paper and a pen, which he had brought along specifically for letters, because parchment and quills would draw suspicion. He sat on the edge of the bed, wondering how to phrase everything he wanted to say without mentioning magic.

_Dear Mariah, _

_You would not believe this school! It's in a huge castle with towers and staircases and chandeliers. Really, it's architect heaven. I'll see if I can get you a picture. _

_We haven't started classes, but I've met a few of the teachers. I even spoke to the headmaster today! It seems like most of them are pretty strict, but it should be okay. _

_What really worries me is... well, we get sorted into houses here, by a sort of aptitude test. I got put in the house known for being cruel- evil even. _

_I don't think I'm evil. I just don't get it. Everyone in my house hates me too, because I'm a- well, I don't really know. I think it has to do with where I'm from, because they call me 'mudblood.' _

_I don't know Mariah. Maybe they got it wrong. Maybe I don't belong here. _

_Say hi to Van for me. _

_Lots of love, _

_Cam_

Cameron capped his pen as he reread the letter. Of course, being called mudblood had nothing to do with where he was from, but he couldn't exactly tell her that.

Sighing, he placed the pen on the bedside table and slipped the letter into an envelope. He scrawled "Mariah" on the front and gave it to Pickett. "I know it says Mariah on it, but you take it to mum and dad, okay?"

Pickett nipped his finger affectionately and took the letter. He watched her until she was just a speck in the sky. He hoped he got her reply soon. He blinked his mismatched eyes tiredly and thought that maybe tomorrow, when classes started, he'd get a break from being called a mudblood.

He closed his tired eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: Yay! Two updates this week! I actually have a few more chapters written now, so there should be two updates every week, Tuesday's and Thursday's. **

**What do you think of: **

**Cam?  
**

**Clara? **

**The Sorting Hat? **

**Mariah?**

**Let me know in a review! I love reviews! :)  
**

**Thanks for reading, **

**Lion. **


	4. Chapter 4: The Meaning Of Mudblood

Cameron awoke to a hiss coming somewhere from the base of his bed. He raised his head cautiously, searching for the source of the noise. A thick, black snake was coiled the base of his bed, hissing and snapping at Pickett, who must have arrived back during the night.

Cameron shook himself. There was a snake at the foot of his bed, and he was wondering what time his letter arrived. He pulled himself into a sitting position, never removing his eyes from the snake, and reached for his wand. It wasn't as though he could do anything to the snake, but at least he could shoot sparks and scare it off.

His wand felt alive in his hand, screaming to be used. Cameron raised it in front of him and brought it up in an arch. Silver and green spark erupted out the end and the snake, hissing, slithered off the bed. His dorm mates were staring at him, as though they couldn't believe he'd managed to scare of the snake without showing a lick of fear.

As Cameron turned away to get dressed, he heard someone mutter: "Maybe he does belong in Slytherin," but the voice was shushed immediately.

He pulled on his school robes, right down to the silver and green tie, and grabbed the letter Pickett had brought before heading up the steps to the great hall. He moved quickly, with his robes breezing out behind him. He entered the great hall and went to go sit at the Slytherin table. As he approached, the blonde girl from the welcome feast hissed "Mudblood," in a voice that was almost exactly like the snakes.

He sneered at her, hoping it would make her quit but she just laughed. Since he didn't particularly enjoy being called names, he changed directions towards the Ravenclaw table and sat next to Clara.

"Are you-" Clara started to ask.

"I don't care if I'm allowed or not, I'm _not _sitting with my house."

He said it with such passion and fury that despite her questions, Clara didn't say another thing about it. They ate in silence.

"What's the Slytherin doing here?" An older Ravenclaw asked, sitting across from Clara.

"He's my friend," she said, as though it settled the matter.

"Friend or not, he can't sit here unless her answers three riddles," said yet another Ravenclaw student, joining the first.

Cameron blinked. "What?"

"Ravenclaw treasured cleverness, so in order to sit here, you have to prove that you're clever." said the first, a fifth year boy with shaggy hair.

"So, you must answer three riddles," said the second, a red-headed girl with eyes so green they could put emeralds to shame.

"Is this really necessary?" Clara asks, rolling her eyes.

"Yes," came the Ravenclaw's response. "Say, Tasha," said the boy to the girl. "Which riddle should we use first?"

"Oh!" Said the girl, Tasha, excitedly. "Let's do the money one!"

The nameless boy grinned. "Okay!"

Cameron frowned. "What if I refuse to do the riddles?"

"Then we forcibly evict you." Tasha shrugged.

"Okay," said Cameron pressing his lips together. "Give me the riddles."

The boy cleared his throat. "This riddle deals with American money. That wont be a problem, will it?" When Cameron shook his head, the boy continued. "A father gives ten cents to his first son, and fifteen to his second son. What time is it?"

Cameron stared at the older Ravenclaws. "How on Earth am I supposed to figure out the time?"

They shrugged. "Figure it out,"

Cameron looked at Clara, at a loss for words, and Clara shrugged.

Cameron turned forwards. "Uhm... Two ten?"

"Where did you get to ten from?" Tasha scoffed.

Cameron's eyes narrowed defensively. "He gave ten cents to one son, and fifteen to the other. Going by that logic, he gave each son at least ten cents. There are two sons, therefore, two ten."

"His logics not bad," said the boy. "But he got the riddle wrong."

"What's the answer then?" Clara asked, looking curiously at the older students.

"Ten cents plus fifteen cents is twenty-five cents. In America, the call a twenty-five cent piece a quarter. The father gave a quarter to two. Therefore, it is one forty-five." Tasha explained. "Sorry, you were on the right track."

Cameron sighed. "Do I have to get all the riddles right?"

"Nope, just two." Tasha grinned.

"Okay, give me the next riddle." Cameron requested, and Clara rolled her eyes.

"What kind of work can you never finish?" The boy asks.

"Teamwork?" Cameron guessed.

"Actually... Yeah. Good work!" The boy approved. "Now for the last riddle..."

"True or false: French starts with an F and ends with E." Tasha inquired.

Cameron ran through it in his brain, search for a loophole in the question. "False?" He said, but it sounded more like a question.

"Nope, sorry, you're wrong. Try again next year." The boy shook his head.

"How did I get it wrong?" Cameron demanded.

"French starts with F and ends starts with E," Tasha informed him.

Clara's eyes flashed dangerously. "What do you mean 'try again next year?' He can't try again for a year?"

"Nope, sorry," the boy shrugged "Look, we don't intend to be mean, but we respect intelligence, not cunning."

Cameron paled. Cunning, a Slytherin trait. "Did I come across as cunning to you?"

"A little. You twisted the riddles to for your answers. That's never happened before." The boy shrugged again.

Cameron stood up quickly, have a half smile to Clara and left the table. He worked his way back across the hall to the Slytherin table and sat down to eat a little bit of food. The others at the table moved away from him, but he didn't care. He stabbed angrily at his eggs.

He wasn't like the Slytherins. He wasn't! And he had every right to sit with his only friend- who were they to say he wasn't smart enough? He needed somewhere else to sit... Maybe the Hufflepuffs would take him.

He sighed and shook his head, and he notices Professor Snape moving down the table to hand out time tables. He stopped at Cameron and flipped through the papers, finally giving him one.

The hook-nosed professor sighed when he noticed that Cameron was all alone, and shaking his head moved on.

Looking slightly confused at Snape's display, Cameron checked his time table to see he had potions first. Excellent.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to eat anything more, Cameron stood up and, throwing his bag over his shoulder, walked down the dungeons. He had no clue where the potions rooms were, so he looked around for a painting to ask. He'd seen older students talking to the portraits, so he was prepared for it.

He switched his book bag to a different shoulder and walked down the hall, breaking into a run when he saw the painting.

The painting was off a young boy, no more than six, with a wand in his hand, levitating objects. Cameron approached it- him? Cameron wasn't sure what pronoun you would use in this case.

"Hello," he addressed the painting. "I'm a bit lost- could you tell me the way to the potions room?"

The painting looked at him for a moment. "Your eyes are different colors. Why?"

"I-I don't know. Biology, I guess?"

"What's that?" The boy asked, moving forward.

"A type of muggle science...?" Cameron mumbled with a frown.

"Oh. You're a muggle-born then?"

Cameron considered lying. His experience with saying he was muggle born wasn't very good. "Yeah," he said anyways.

"Oh. You want to know where the potions room is? Go straight until you see a drunken lady, then go left. The potions room is the seventh door on the left."

"Thanks!" Cameron smiled before turning to go.

"My name's Joey! You should come back some time! It gets lonely over here!" The boy called after him.

"I'll try," Cameron promised, and set off to find his classroom.

He arrived early; everyone else was still at the feast. He slipping into the room and set his bag at a table in the front. He sat down and pulled out his book, flipping though it.

"You're early, Mr. Deligure."

Cameron jumped. "Professor, I didn't see you there!"

"I figured," Snape drawled. "Why are you early?"

Cameron debated saying that he wasn't hungry, or that he wanted to be sure he didn't get lost, but he decided on the truth. "My housemates don't really like me,"

"I know," sighed Snape.

"Professor, why- why do they call me-" he gulped. "Why do they call me Mudblood?"

Snape recoiled as if slapped. "Don't say that word,"

"Why not, though? They say it like it's the worst insult they can think of!" Cameron nearly shouted.

"It is," Snape informed him in a voice barely above a whisper. "It is the most fowl name you can ever call a muggle-born. It means that the blood is bad."

Cameron shook his head. "Well, I'm not going to let it get to me. If it's what I am, what they see me as, then..." Cameron trailed off. "Whatever."

Snape sneered at him. "You're in Slytherin for a reason. You'd better figure out why."

Before Cameron could respond, the rest of the class started to come in.

He found himself sitting alone, which came as no surprise, but then a Gryffindor girl tugged her friend over to him.

"Hi. I'm Helen, and this is Theodore. Can we sit here? You looked really lonely."

Cameron smiled. "I'm Cam, and sure."

Maybe his house didn't like him, but that in no way meant he didn't belong in Hogwarts.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, okay, I know! I'be missed lots of updates! But hear me out. I am a writer, and I just got over some massive writers block in my novel, so I had to work on that. And then I burnt my hand really bad, and it hurt to type. Anyways, I'm back now! **

**What do you think of Cameron? Clara? The Ravenclaws? Please let me know! **

**Thanks to my followers, favoriters, and reviews! It means a lot to me! :) **

**xx Lion **


	5. Chapter 5: An Unexpected Challenge

"Cam! Hey, Cam!"

Cameron looked up when he heard Clara's voice calling his name. "Yeah?"

"You left your letter at our table this morning," Clara panted, having finally caught up to her friend in the crowded halls.

Cameron had completely forgotten about the letter. He took it from Clara, smiling slightly. "Thanks, I can't believe I forgot."

"No problem, who's it from?"

"Mariah," Cameron said softly, turning the letter over and over in his hands.

"Your girlfriend?" Clara grinned, nudging him.

"Yeah." Cameron confirmed.

"Cool, cool. Hey, do you want to sit with me at dinner?"

Cameron shook his head. "I'd get 'forcibly evicted' remember?"

"Right," Clara laughed. "I forgot. Well... I could sit at your table?"

"I don't think the Slytherins would like that too much," Cameron shrugged. "I'll be fine, okay?"

"Okay... If you're sure..." Clara shifted from foot to foot. "You're a great guy, y'know? You're worth way more than what they say."

"I know," Cameron gathered up his friend in a hug. "I know lovely. Thank you."

"I do what I can," she laughed. "Now come on, we should get to dinner."

And so the two first years wandered down the clearing halls to the Great Hall. "You sure you'll be okay?" Clara asked again just before they entered.

"I'll be fine lovely. I promise." Cameron grinned and entered the Great Hall.

Clara went one way and Cameron the other, and both sat down at their house tables. However, on of them had no intention to stay.

Cameron grabbed some food- a few rolls, a couple of carrots and a slice of meat- and stood up. The rest of his house watched him go, some hissing 'Mudblood' as he passed them.

Still, he shrugged it off and made his way out of the great hall and started towards the dungeons.

He arrived at the inconspicuous wall that lead to the Slytherin common rooms. "Protest," he said, and the wall slid open.

No one was in the common room- they were all at dinner. Cameron slumped into one of the black armchairs- which weren't very comfortable, truth be told- and began to eat.

After he'd finished the meat and half the carrots, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter.

Inside the envelope, he found two letters, one from his parents and the other from Mariah.

He unfolded the one from his parents first.

_**Dear Cameron,**_

_**We're glad to know that you arrived safely and are doing well. We can't wait for a letter with our names on the front! **_

_**You'll have to wait about a week to send your next letter, so Mariah doesn't get suspicious. **_

_**Love you Lots, **_

_**Mum and Dad**_

Cameron smiled at his parents not-so-subtly. He'd have to remember to write to them soon. Smiling slightly, he flipped open the next letter.

_**Cam, **_

_**A castle, huh? I haven't heard of any schools in a castle. Sounds amazing! If you do get me pictures, I want tons. **_

_**You have to tell me all about your classes- I'm sure that they'll be great. Why did you talk to the headmaster? It sounds a little ominous. **_

_**You are not cruel, or evil. They're must be other traits that you share with them, and that's why you were put there. Do not let them get to you. If they're calling you 'mudblood' because of where you're from, then that's what you are. Maybe calling yourself that will make it hurt less when they do. Like last year when people started calling me 'bumble-bee.' When I called myself that, it didn't bother me as much when they did. **_

_**Just don't let it get to you. No matter what, you're still me favorite. **_

_**Much Love, **_

_**Mariah **_

_**P.S. Vanessa says if you call her Van one more time she'll drive to Scotland just to punch you in the nose. **_

Cameron laughed, folding the letter back up and sticking it in his pocket. Maybe he would take you advice.

Just then, a group of boys wandered into the common room. Oh look! It's the mudblood! Couldn't even sit with his house at dinner. Ashamed of us? Scared of us?"

The oldest of the boys stepped forwards, the others following suit, forming a circle around Cameron. "Can't stand up for yourself? Little Deligure, the scared mudblood with no where to run." Another first year taunted, and the surrounding people laughed.

A crowd was forming now, most hanging back. Only a few were participating, but none were trying to stop it. Cameron looked up in time to see the blonde girl break into the circle and gaze at him with a hard stare. "Cameron Deligure- the mudblood disgrace. He's only here because he doesn't belong anywhere else. The sorting hat wanted us to toughen him up, I bet. He should get used to not fitting in, the stupid little mudblood."

Cameron forced himself to stand and meet he gaze. "And if it isn't the dumb blonde who's only comeback to the first year is words- not any magic, I'm afraid. What? Don't you know any?"

"That sounds like a challenge." She said lazily, reaching for her wand.

"Yeah," Cameron declared, trying to be brave. "It was."

"Oh, don't pretend to be brave, mudblood. You aren't. You don't belong in Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw, or even Hufflepuff. And you sure as hell don't belong in Slytherin. The sorting hat's mistake- they'll tell stories of you- the one time the sorting hat messed up, and how he couldn't last a day." The girl spit.

"Maybe my sorting was a mistake, but at least my birth wasn't," he snapped.

She stepped forward, pulling her wand out and holding it under his chin. "Don't insult me, boy. You don't want me as an enemy."

"Yeah, well, I figure I already am. What have I got to lose?" Cameron grabbed his own wand, turning it over and over in his hand.

"You disgust me," The girl hissed. "You're not fit to hold that wand, mudblood. But if you want a challenge, I'll give you a challenge. Halloween nigh, once you've been trained up a bit. It's always more fun when they think they have a chance at winning."

And with that, she turned and walked off. The crowd thinned, and Cameron collapsed into a chair. "What have I gotten myself into?" he murmured.

It was clearly nothing good.

* * *

**A/N: Well, there you have it! Thank you to all my fabulous reviewers! It really means a lot to me to know you like it. I plan on posting every Sunday from now on, because that will just be easier for me over all. I know today isn't Sunday, but I'm off school and I wanted to make up for the last several missed updates. So, Sunday, if you want to know when to check back.**

**This chapter was really hard to write, because I know that words can hurt and that there's more to bullying then just being pushed around. If you are being bullied, please get help. I know it's hard, but you'll be better off if you do. **

**Cameron's gone and got himself into quite a lot of trouble! Thoughts? Feelings? Random thing that you ate for dinner? I really don't mind what you say. **

**Thanks so much for reading! **

**xx Lion**


	6. Chapter 6: Whispers In The Paintings

Although he did have several acquaintance in other houses, Cameron wouldn't say that he had any friends, aside from Clara. It was because of this that he didn't get to tell anyone about the girls threat until four days after, when he had herbology with the Ravenclaws.

He, Clara girl called Kimmy and a boy who wouldn't talk to Cameron stood around a strange looking stump-shaped plant with electric blue feelers. They were supposed to be slicing the feelers at the base, and then tying them in bundles, but Clara quickly discovered that the feelers burnt human flesh on contact and was sent to the hospital wing. Cameron accompanied her.

When they were halfway there, Clara stopped, turned and looked Cameron in his mismatched eyes. "Okay, spill," She demanded, crossing her arms.

"What do you mean? We have to get you to the hospital wing." Cameron attempted to keep walking, but Clara held out her not burnt hand to stop him.

"It's fine. All they'd give me is something for the pain anyways."

"You mean you knew it would burn you?" Cameron asked, bewildered.

"Yes. I needed to talk to you, and I knew you wouldn't talk in front of Kimmy and Greg." Clara crossed her arms. "So, come on, what's up?"

"Nothing," Cameron insisted, looking her dead in the eyes.

"I know somethings wrong. You've been carrying a bit of parchment in your pocket for the past four days- one can assume it's the letter, and you've been looking all jittery, spending all your time in the library looking up spells way to advanced for you. Something is wrong, and I want to know what."

"First off... how the hell are you so observant?" Cameron asked, half glaring at her. "And secondly, I said it's nothing."

"I'm in Ravenclaw for a reason. I'm clever. Something bothering you, Cam. Please tell me?" Clara looked at him desperately, searching for some sort of answer.

"A third year girl in my house challenged me to a duel because she thinks mudbloods aren't worthy of magic and they all hate me and they put snakes in my bed and dye my hair different colors every morning and I need it to stop so I'm going to fight her," Cameron blurted in a single breath.

"What?" Clara demanded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I need to do this on my own, Clara. I need to win."

"When do you fight her?"

"Halloween."

"Good," Clara sighed. "We have time to prepare. You're lucky I'm smart, Deligure, or you'd be screwed."

"You think I don't know that?" Cameron rolled his eyes as they resumed walking towards the hospital wing.

* * *

Cameron and Clara spent the next several weeks cooped up in the library, trying to learn some simple defense spells. Between that, homework, and Cameron waking up with multicolored hair every morning, the two were kept incredibly busy until a week before Halloween.

On the Friday before Halloween, Clara entered the library before breakfast to find Cameron, except he had lime green hair instead of his usual brown. "Aren't you going to get that fixed?"

Cameron shrugged. "I figured I'd leave them this week- Halloween and all. I think dressing up is a muggle tradition, but wizards play jokes, too."

Clara nodded slightly, grinning. "Makes sense. I have something important to tell you."

"What is it?"

"Well, I heard some people taking in my common room last night. They're saying that something wrong in the castle. Somethings off." Clara informed him in a whisper.

"Like what?" He questioned, eyes sparkling with interest.

"They said that the paintings have been whispering about a 'mist.' I don't know what it could be, and whenever the Ravenclaws try to ask the paintings, they run off. It must be something really secret."

Cameron nodded thoughtfully. "I think I know of a painting that might help us..."

"Really?" Clara asked excitedly, earning a 'shhhhh!" from the librarian.

"Yes," Cameron continued in a whisper. "In the dungeons. When do you have break?"

"Right before lunch."

"Me, too." Cameron nodded once. "Meet me in the entrance hall, and we can go from there."

Clara nodded and adjusted the shoulder strap of her bag. "Come on, we should go eat."

"I'm not hungry," Cameron mumbled, looking down.

"Cam... I haven't seen you in the great hall for breakfast or lunch since last Thursday! You need to eat! You're already looking thinner..." Clara looked nervously at her friend.

"I'm fine, Clara. Really. I'm just not hungry." Cameron offered a weak smile, and Clara sighed.

"At least come for lunch?"

"Sure," Cameron lied.

"Fine," Clara said, standing up. "I'll see you before lunch." She ruffled his hair slightly and walked away.

Cameron slumped father in his seat. It was true that he was looking thinner, and was more prone to colds then before. He'd been skipping breakfast and lunch so as to avoid his housemates as much as possible. He'd even stay out after curfew, hidden in empty classrooms, so that he wouldn't have to be in the common room. He hardly ever slept, and bag were forming around his eyes. At his old schools, people had told him that standing up to the bully would make them stop, but muggles didn't know about the effects of magic.

Every morning he'd wake up with different colored hair from the day before, and sometimes an animal in his bed. Occasionally, one of the older kids would come in and hit him with a jinx, and he'd try to get dressed while dancing, or with feathers on his arms. Cameron had to fight not to show weakness in front of them, because showing weakness would only make things worse. He had to win the duel against that stupid girl-Janice Foster was her name, Cameron learned.

Sitting up and sighing, he tugged a book closer towards him, and flipped through it. The leg locker curse looked promising, but he'd need someone to practice on. Clara would be willing to help, but it didn't seem fair to her.

He kept reading until five minutes before class. It was Friday, so he had transfiguration first. He liked transfiguration, because it was one of the few classes that could help him with his hair problem. Professor McGonagall taught them basic things at first- turning matches into needles and vice versa- but now they had moved on to more interesting things, like beetles into buttons.

Professor McGonagall handed out the beetles, and Cameron settled himself into his seat, grabbing his wand from his bag. He twirled it between his fingers as he listened to the instructions. Soon, the class was alive with sounds of spells being cast and flashes of red light.

Cameron like when class was like this, loud and crazy and bright. It was then that he was just another student, then that he was ignored and treated like anyone else.

Okay, maybe not like anyone else, because most other people were laughing at their friends failed attempts, and Cameron was alone, but that was alright. Anything was better than what usually went on.

Classes went on that way for the rest of the day, all spell work and routine, and that was good.

Finally, break came, and Cameron stuffed his things back into his bag and headed to the entrance hall, where Clara was waiting.

"Okay, so where is this painting? Are you sure you remember the way?" Clara asked, falling into step behind Cameron, as they headed down the stone steps to the dungeons.

"I always remember the way, Clara." Cameron dead-panned.

"Oh, yeah." Clara giggled nervously.

"What's got you all nervous?" Cameron asked. "It's not just the mist, and this mystery, it's something else, too. You were fine this morning when you told me about it, so what's changed?"

"Nothing," Clara said too quickly.

"Uh-huh."

"Really, it's nothing," Clara insisted.

"I'm sure," Cameron said, taking a sharp left turn.

"Oh, fine. I was just talking to some of my friend, and Kimmy- you remember Kimmy, don't you?" Cameron nodded, and she continued. "Well, she said that Oswin was talking to some Slytherins, and they're planning to cheat in the duel!"

"Who's Oswin?" Cameron wondered.

"Oh, she's a spy. Well, sort of. Ravenclaws like to keep tabs on the rest of the school, and Oswin has an older brother in Slytherin, so she tells us all about them."

"Who's her brother?"

"I think they said his name was Rodger." Clara shrugged.

Cameron grunted. "Thanks for telling me, Clara."

"No problem. You realize you can't fight her now, right?"

"Clara, if I back down, thing will only get worse. I have to try. Now come on, the painting's just up here."

And so it was. The little wizard boy, Joey, was sitting cross legged in his frame with his wand changing the shapes of the clouds in the background. He seemed to perk up when he saw Cameron coming. "Hey!" He called. "You came to visit!"

"This is the painting?" Clara hissed in his ear. "He's only what, six?"

"Shut up," Cameron whispered back. "You'd be surprised what kids overhear."

"Who's the girl?" Joey asked.

"Joey, this is Clara, my best friend." Cameron introduced. "We need to ask you something important, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Have you heard anything about a mist?" Clara asked in a sweet voice with a large smile.

"Mist? Oh, yeah, some of the older paintings were talking about it."

"What is it?" Cameron asked urgently.

"Uhm... something about things disappearing... paintings being rewritten and changed." Joey shrugged.

"What do you mean?" Cameron and Clara asked together.

"Well, it's just little things really, but I used to have a butterfly here, and now I don't. The mist takes things away from paintings. I don't know anything else." Joey lifted his shoulders and returned to playing with the clouds.

"Well, that was anti-climatic."Clara said, her shoulders slumping as they turned away.

"I dunno." Cameron mumbled. "It might be important. Paintings changing? I might not know much about magic, but I know that paintings aren't supposed to change."

"True enough, I suppose. I guess we should keep an eye out." Clara glanced at her watch. "We should go to lunch now."

"I've just got to run to my common room, I have to feed Pickett first," Cameron told her, turning away.

"Cameron! If you don't come to lunch I'm going to curse you into next week!" Clara called after him.

"You wouldn't do that," Cameron shouted back.

Clara rolled her eyes and started to lunch. She hoped he friend would be alright. She didn't want him to get sick.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, okay, I'm a day late. I was out of the house way more than I thought I would be, so I didn't get a chance to write. Still, it's here now!**

**The real adventure starts in this chapter. The paintings are changing, and what does that mean for the castle? I guess you'll just have to wait and find out. :) **

**Thank you to my wonderful reviewers. I love it when people review on more than one chapter (hint,hint) because it lets me know that they're still enjoying it.**

**Also, guess what? Cameron Deligure has a tumblr! If you'd like to ask him any questions, feel free to stop by! He can be found at cam-i-am-k . tumblr. com **

**Thanks for reading!**

**xx Lion**


	7. Chapter 7: With The Help Of Ravenclaws

On Halloween morning, Cameron was pleased to wake up with his normal hair. There weren't any animals in his bed, and the older kids ignored him as he dressed. It was rather nice, to have a break.

It wasn't until he was in the library during breakfast that he realized why they were being nice to him. It was Halloween, the day of the duel. Cameron slumped forwards in his chair and sighed.

He was doomed. The Slytherins were planning to cheat, and he barely knew any magic as it was.

Just then, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to lock eyes with Clara. "Are you okay?"

"What do you think?" Cameron groaned, putting his head back in his hands.

"Hey, it's not too late to back out. I know a Hufflepuff girl who's found nearly all the secret rooms in the school. We could hind you." Clara tried to comfort him, taking a seat beside from him.

"I have to try, Clara. If I don't, I'll be called more than just a mudblood. I'll be called a coward." He forced himself to sit up just enough to look her in the eyes. "I will not be called a coward."

"Okay, okay." Clara soothed, and when he put his head back down, she run her fingers through her hair in a calming way. "It'll be alright. I promise."

Cameron mumbled something incoherent. Clara sat there with him, muttering soothing words and assuring him that it would be alright.

"We should go eat," Clara suggested, taking his hand and forcing him to stand. "Come on."

Cameron, clearly nervous, allowed himself to be dragged into the great hall. Clara tugged him towards the Hufflepuff table and sat him down, whispering something to a boy near him.

As Clara left, the boy turned to face him. "Hello. I'm Henry, and you're Cameron, right?" Cameron nodded. "Okay. Here, have some eggs."

Cameron picked at the eggs, his mismatched eyes staring at nothing. Several of the people around him were offering him their names and trying to get him to smile. It was such a change from his usual breakfast routine, the he found himself talking, and even smiling.

He rather liked the Hufflepuffs. They made him feel welcome, and they were so friendly. He liked sitting there.

When the post arrived, a brown barn owl fluttered down and landed in front of Cameron. Cameron took the letter with shaking hands. He had a sinking suspicion of who it was from.

_**Deligure-**_

_**Tonight. Eight o'clock. Common room. Don't be late.**_

It wasn't signed, but it didn't need to be. He knew who it was from. Janice Foster- the blonde girl. Cameron felt sick to his stomach, and he knew he couldn't eat anymore.

He pushed his plate away and stood up. Thanking the Hufflepuffs, he walked away, shoving his hands in his pockets. His heart was racing a thousand beats a minute.

He wandered this way and that, not really paying attention to where he was going. Eventually, he arrived at the library. He supposed it was the normal place to end up; he had spent most of the last two months hiding away in it.

Worming away around bookshelves, Cameron approached his usual table and slumped into one of the seats. Atop the table was a storybook, and Cameron reached out for it.

It was the first wizard storybook Cameron had the chance to see, so he was interested. He flipped it open to the first page and smiled as he read a story called Babbity Rabbity and Her Cackling Stump. It was a strange tale, to say the least, but Cameron found himself smiling the whole way through...

And then he came to a picture on the very last page. It was off a tall man holding out an ax to chop down a thick tree. Cameron stared at it, thinking about how it would feel the have an ax in your side for your whole life, striking you again and again...

And as he stared, a swirling off white colored mist surrounded the ax twisting a twirling and spinning, and when left, the ax was gone. Cameron stared, stared, stared. That must have been the mist.

It had reached in and taken the ax. What good was changing a painting, Cameron wondered, if you weren't going to do anything with the change? And then, he had a brainwave. Maybe, maybe, maybe, the mist was planning on doing something with the missing things from paintings.

He had to talk to Clara, he decided. The mist was more important then they had originally thought, it seemed.

He stood, pushing himself away from the desk and standing, rushing from the library to search for his only friend.

In his haste, he didn't see the little bunny in the picture perk it's ears up and hop away.

He found Clara standing in a circle with three other Ravenclaws. Kimmy and Greg he recognized, and there was one other girl with dark hair that he didn't know. He tapped Clara on the shoulder, and his friend turned around, pulling him into the circle.

"This is my friend, Cameron." She introduced him to the dark haired girl.

The dark haired girl peered at him through long lashes. "Cameron Deligure? I'm Oswin."

Cameron blinked at her, his mismatched eyes gleaming. "Nice to meet you."

"We were just discussing the mist," Clara informed Cameron.

"Oh, good!" Cameron exclaimed as quietly as he could. "I was just coming to tell you something!"

"Really?" Asked Kimmy, bouncing on her heels.

Greg and Clara shushed her. "What is it Cam?"

"Well, I was in the library just now, reading a story book, and there was this painting in it. I was staring at it, just thinking, and a mist sort of showed up out of nowhere and made the ax- there was an ax in the picture- disappear!"

"You saw the mist?" Greg repeated, and Cameron did a double take. Those were the first words Greg had ever said to him.

"Yes," Cameron confirmed, and found Kimmy and Clara both staring at him. Oswin shot him a sidelong glance, but stayed otherwise completely still.

It was Clara who finally broke the silence. "What do you suppose it means? Taking objects from paintings?"

"I don't know..." Kimmy breathed. "But we have class soon, so we can't discuss it now. Meet us in the library at lunch, Cameron."

Cameron was bursting to tell them his theory, but knew that Kimmy was right. As she, Clara, and Greg headed in one direction, he started to go off in another, but Oswin grabbed his arm before he could. "The duel's tonight, isn't it?"

"Why do you care?" He question, looking at her over his shoulder.

"Because my dear older brother," she spat. "Isn't planning on doing anything about it. In fact, he's planning on helping them cheat. You can't duel her, you know. They won't play fair."

"If I don't duel her, things get worse for me. What do you suggest I do, Oswin?"

"I don't know. Cheat?"

"I'm not going to cheat just because they are." Cameron snarled.

Oswin smiled. "You're not like most Slytherins, Cameron. Still cunning and ambitious, but not like most Slytherins."

Cameron didn't answer, choosing instead to shake off her arm and continue walking. Oswin watched his retreating back, dark eyes showing the hints of approval.

* * *

At lunch, Cameron waited in the library for the Ravenclaws. He was at the same table as in the morning, with five chairs placed all around it.

Oswin was the first one there. She took the seat across from Cameron and studied him silently.

Next came Kimmy, bouncing in and taking the seat on Cameron's left, smiling at him and then chattering with Oswin about some class they'd had that morning.

Then it was Clara who entered, informing them all that Greg wouldn't be coming, because he didn't want to get into any trouble.

So the four of them sat at the table in the library. Cameron filled them in on his theory that the things being taken from the paintings were going top be used for something, because there was no point in taking things you weren't going to use.

"But how would they turn a painting's object into something tangible that they could use?" Clara wondered aloud.

"Maybe they aren't," Oswin supplied. "Maybe they're just for use in paintings."

"Who would want to attack paintings?" Kimmy rolled her eyes.

"Another painting?" Cameron guessed.

And so the conversation went, taking circles around different theories until Oswin finally was fed up and said: "There's no point in discussing theories until we have more information. For now, shouldn't we be focusing on a problem that we can do something about?"

"What problem?" Kimmy wondered.

"Cameron's duel, of course." Oswin stated, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I told you, Oswin. I don't want to cheat."

"I don't want you to cheat either," Oswin snapped. "But I'm afraid you have no other choice."

Cameron glared at her across the table. "There is always a choice."

Clara sighed. "Maybe, if you were a little older, or had a little more training, but you don't Cam. If you aren't going to cheat, then you can't fight."

Cameron bristled. "No to both. I will not cheat, but I will fight. Even if I were to cheat, who would help me? You aren't in my house, and the duel is in my common room."

"We could get in, hide in the bookshelves or something. Please Cam? We just want to help!" Kimmy put in. "And we'd only be there for back-up. We wouldn't do anything unless it was absolutely necessary."

Clara and Oswin nodded in agreement, and Cameron sighed. "Fine. But you won't do anything unless it's one hundred percent needed."

The girl agreed.

So they set about creating a plan, and by the time lunch was over, they had a decent idea of what was going to happen. "Meet me here at dinner, and I'll show you the way to the common room." Cameron told them. "This won't be easy to do without getting caught, so we'll have to be very careful."

Clara, Kimmy, and Oswin smiled at him. "It's alright Cam," Clara reassured him, ruffling his hair as she stood to leave. "We're here for you."

As the Ravenclaws left, Cameron couldn't help think how all his friends were girls, and how he hoped that their plan would work.

Before he left the library, he glanced once around and his mismatched eyes- one brown and the other green- stared to fill with tears. He slumped back into his seat, hands covering his face, and he cried.

* * *

**A/N: Cameron, Clara, Oswin and Kimmy, of to battle magic of unspeakable danger. What does it mean for them, and the castle? Spoilers, sweetie. **

**Guys, I'm really sorry, but I have to take this off set updates, at least for now. Why, you ask? Let me tell you why. **

**Right now, I am in the process of moving from Canada to England, and as exciting and wonderful and amazing as that is, it's also very complicated. I don't have a house right now, and I'm living with my aunt and uncle. My family has to get visa's and passports. It's also very stressful. I'm feeling a little bit depressed because I'll be leaving behind my entire extended family as well as all my friends. So I'm not sure how much (or how often) I'll be able to write. **

**On a lighter note, this week is spring break for me, so there should be (fingers crossed) at least two more updates this week before the whole I-don't-know-how-often-I-will-update thing mentioned and explained above. **

**Thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited or commented on this story. I love you all. **

**xx Lion**


	8. Chapter 8: The Halloween Duel

Clara Keep was not an unreasonable person. She was good, and honest, and always there for her friends. She made certain that everyone was cared for and looked after.

Maybe that was why she was okay with helping Cameron cheat- not that she'd really call it cheating. After all, if it were a fair wizards duel, Cameron would have a second. He wouldn't, however, in this duel.

So Clara would help him. It was only fair, after all. Besides, they had sworn that they wouldn't do anything until Cameron was in danger. Protecting someone who was in danger wasn't cheating, Clara told herself firmly.

Still, as she walked to the library at dinner to meet with Cameron and the others, she couldn't stop the nagging feeling of guilt in the pit of her stomach, the back of her mind.

She was the last to the library, like she had been at lunch. Cameron was flipping through a storybook, Oswin doodling on the desk, and Kimmy humming to herself. Clara announced her presence with a slight cough.

Cameron stood up quickly, staring at Clara with something like worry, but it vanished, replaced by a fierce determination. He went up to Clara looked her dead in the eyes for a moment, and she gulped, nodding, as though to confirm that she was still going to help him, no matter what.

He relaxed slightly after he saw that. "Let's go." He said, and the girls followed behind him- except for Oswin, who took the place next to him. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, smiling to herself.

"You know, Cam," she said nonchalantly. "I must say I'm impressed."

"By what?" He returned sharply.

"By you." She said simply, sticking her hands in her pockets. "Even after everything they've done to you, you're still strong. Even after knowing they're going to cheat, you won't. It's impressive."

Cameron glanced at her. "Thanks, I guess."

Oswin shrugged. "I only hope that you don't end up hurt because of it. I never wanted you to cheat, you know. It was a way to judge your character."

"And what did you determine?" He questioned, leading the group around a corner.

"That I'm very confused as to how you ended up in Slytherin. I'm sure that there's a reason, I just haven't found it yet."

"When you do, could you let me know?" Cameron asked, rolling his eyes at the memory of the Sorting Hat.

"Will do," she said agreeably.

Cameron led them to a blank wall, without any sort of marking. The girls barely had enough time to wonder why they stopped when Cameron said in a firm voice "Silver-tongue."

The door slid back to reveal a sprawling common room, filled with a greenish light. A roaring fire was in the grate, and skulls- human and otherwise- covered the walls.

"Is that a coffin?" Kimmy gasped, staring at the big black- yes, it was a coffin- that was propped up against the wall.

"Yes," Cameron answered in a resigned sort of voice. "They have all sorts of weird junk in here. Who wants to hide in the coffin?"

Oswin volunteered, and climbed in, swinging it shut behind her. Most would've been mildly concerned (at least), but not her. She closed her eyes leaned back, and waited for her cue.

Clara hid in a sort of loft, behind a potted plant, where she was hidden, but could still see what was going on below.

Kimmy slipped in between an line of decorative skulls and a bookshelf, waiting patiently.

It was almost time, Cameron noticed, as he glanced at the clock. He sat down on one of the green chairs and waited.

It was a half hour later when things got interesting.

Slytherins had been trickling in, but not going to dormitories. Rather, they stayed in the common room, some slipping behind things. Suddenly, everyone fell still.

Janice Foster had walked in.

Cameron looked up, his mouth set in a smirk and amusement in his eyes. It was fake, of course, but Janice didn't know that.

"Foster," he greeted with a tip of his head.

"Deligure." She replied coolly.

"So, how's this going to work?" He asked, maintaining that hint of amusement. "Fill the mudblood in on how wizard duels work."

Upon hearing that, Clara and Kimmy both gave a sharp intake of breath. Had he really just called himself that?

Foster smirked. "Well, for starters, just me and you, no seconds, no help. Understood?"

"Crystal clear," Cameron replied with a smile.

"Second of all, only wands. No contact."

"Agreed."

"And finally, the winner is the first to get their opponent knocked to the ground."

"Sounds good to me," Cameron said calmly. The irritation was clear in Foster's face. She had hoped to frighten him- he was being much to agreeable.

A space was cleared in the center of the common room, and a crowd formed a circle. Cameron turned his wand over and over in his hand.

Foster gave him a little bow, and he did the same. In record time, she had her wand trained on him. "Incendio!"

A small, blue fire appeared on the hem of Cameron's robes. Fuming, he stamped it out, and turned his wand on her. "Rictusempra!"

Immediately, she was overcome with the feeling of being tickled.

And so the duel went, neither casting very strong magic until Cameron shot a spell to change her blonde hair purple, and Foster lost it.

She stuck her wand out in front of her, trained at Cameron's chest. "AVIS!" She roared, and a flurry of bird erupted out of the end of her wand, and attacked Cameron.

He brought an arm up to shield his face, and the little golden birds poked, pinched, and nibbled at it, until Cameron was forced to flee. The crowed parted to let him through, and as it went, other Slytherins from all around the room shot more spells at him.

Spell after spell hit him, and Cameron realized then that was how they were cheating. The duel would seem fair, and then others would join the fight. Poor little Cameron Deligure, the mudblood, would be left all alone.

Janice Foster wasn't doing a thing. She just leaned back on her heels and watched as Cameron battled with the jelly legs jinx, the bird, and people changing his hair color every three seconds just for fun.

She laughed as he collapsed against the coffin, struggling to stand upright. What she didn't know, was that poor little Cameron Deligure, the mudblood, was not as alone she might have thought.

"Oswin," He whispered to the coffin. "I need you."

He slipped down the coffin, finally submitting to the jelly legs jinx. As soon as he was on the ground, the hinges swung open, and Oswin stepped out.

"Funny," she mused, as the crowd fell silent. "I though you were better than this, Rodger."

A fifth year Slytherin boy glared at Oswin. "This isn't your fight, little sister."

"No," she agreed. "But it is my friends fight. And I'm not going to let him fight when the odds are two hundred to one." She glared at the Slytherins and pointed her wand on Cameron. "Finite Incantantum."

Suddenly, Cameron was able to stand again. He stood next to Oswin, and Kimmy took it as her cue to come out from behind the bookshelf. She stood next to Oswin.

And then Clara was on Cameron's other side, holding his hand in hers, comforting him as best she could while staying silent.

Oswin glared furiously at the Slytherins. "The Slytherin house was meant to be ambitious and cunning, not malicious and cruel! Don't you get it? Cameron is more Slytherin than any of you, because he knows what her wants and he gets it, while all of you just stand around jinxing anything that isn't pure-blood."

And with that, Oswin led Clara, Kimmy, and Cameron out of the Slytherin common room and into the hall.

"Let's get to the hospital wing," Kimmy suggested, taking in Cameron's bleeding arm and scratched face.

When they got to the hospital wing, Cameron was immediately fussed over. When he was resting against the pillows of a bed, Clara filled in Madame Pomfrey with an edited version of what happened.

"I think it would be best if Cameron spent the night here. He needs to regain his strength, and I don't think he'll be able to do that very well in his own house." Clara concluded.

"Poor dear. I knew something like this would happen the moment he was put in that house. His a brave one, though. I bet he'd fit right in Gryffindor. I sometime wonder what that sorting hat is thinking!" Madame Pomfrey scurried off to give Cameron something to help him sleep.

"What did you tell her?" Oswin asked, appearing beside Clara.

"That one of his housemates hit him with a 'Avis.' Technically the truth." Clara sighed.

"I wish there was more we could do," Kimmy said, coming over to the other girls.

"Me too, Kimmy, me too." Oswin glanced over at Cameron. "If only he could visit home."

"I bet he'd love to see Mariah again," Clara agreed.

"His girlfriend?"

"Yep," Clara stared at Cameron for a moment. "Come on. We should get back to our common room."

So the three Ravenclaws left the Slytherin in the hospital bed. He slept the whole night through for the first time since his first day. It was bliss.

* * *

**A/N: So, that was the duel! It might not have lived up to the hype, but it's not bad. Things will be getting a little better for Cameron, and now we can focus more on the mist! Who's excited? I know I am. **

**As I have said, after this week, I won't be able to update as much. I hope you'll forgive me. :( For now, however, why don't you tell me what you're thinking? :) **

**What would you like to see happen in this story? What do you like about this story? Favorite character? I'd love your opinions! **

**Thanks so much for reading! **

**xx Lion**


	9. Chapter 9: A Dark and Stormy Day

Cameron awoke the day after Halloween in the hospital wing. He was the only occupant. He wondered for a moment why he was there, and then it all came flooding back.

He felt strangely free, now that the duel was over. He was sure there would be a price to pay for bringing the Ravenclaws into their common room, but at that moment, he didn't care. He smiled to himself and flopped back down on the pillows.

Madame Pomfrey came bustling into the room to check on him. "You have huge dark circles under your eyes, and you're very weak. You need to regain your strength." She fussed, placing some flowers by his bed. "I'm going to keep you here a few more days."

Cameron nodded in understanding, and found that Pickett had arrived in the night, with a letter. He'd told Mariah about his theory about the mist, saying it was for a creative writing project. It would be a miracle if she believed him.

So he reached over and pulled the letter out of Pickett's grasp.

**Cam-**

**Since when did you get so imaginative? It sounds like a wonderful idea, and it could go a hundred different directions. Paintings that move... What if one of the paintings was behind it all?**

**We all miss you. You are coming up for Christmas, right? You father has confirmed he'll still be here. You have to come home!**

**I have to go now; mum's giving me the death glare. I have to do my homework. Write soon!**

**Love,**

**Mariah**

Cameron smiled to himself and stuck the letter by the flowers. It was always nice to hear from Mariah, and her idea about the paintings had re-sparked his curiosity about the mist.

Madame Pomfrey came back over to his bed, holding a plate of breakfast. It was loaded with eggs, bacon, toast and two glasses; one of orange juice, and one of pumpkin juice. She set it across Cameron's lap and left him with only two words: "Eat up."

So Cameron did. He nibbled eggs and bacon, crunched on toast and sipped juice. It had been so long since he'd had a proper breakfast, he was only able to stomach less than half of the food he was given. Still, it was wonderful.

He wasted his morning reading, and then at lunch, his friends came to visit. Clara, Kimmy, and Oswin sat around his bed, they chatted and joked as the Cameron ate his food.

After a while, Oswin reached across and snatched up the letter on Cameron's night stand. "Who's this from?" from she teased, opening the envelope and slipping out the letter.

"Oswin!" Cameron protested, trying to rip it back from her.

She moved out of his reach and scanned the letter. "You told her about magic?" she practically shouted. "And about the mist? You're breaking about fifty wizard laws right there!"

"Cam?" Kimmy asked, looking worried.

"Relax, guys," Cameron assured them. "I told her, yes, but as a creative writing assignment. She doesn't know about magic."

Everyone visibly relaxed, and Oswin kept reading, much to Cameron's disliking.

"What does she mean your dad has confirmed he'll be there for Christmas? Where else would they be?" Clara asked, peering over Oswin's shoulder.

Cameron blinked a couple times, his mismatched eyes looking at his friends. "He is in the army. We thought he might be shipped off before I got to see him again."

"Oh," Clara said softly, and then returned to the letter. At the same time, she and Oswin said in sing song voices "Love, Mariah!"

Kimmy giggled from her spot by Cameron's head, and he rolled his eyes. "Yes, it's a letter from my girlfriend!" he exclaimed, laughing. "Are you done with it now?"

"Yes," Oswin declared, putting it back on the night stand. "We have to go now, anyways."

So Cameron's friends packed up their things and left the room, waving and bidding himgoodbye.

It was dreadfully boring when he was all on his own, so he asked Madame Pomfrey if he could go for a walk on the grounds. She took some persuading, but eventually, she let him go.

He strapped his cloak around his shoulders and headed out to the grounds. Oswin's words from the duel came back to him.

_"He's more Slytherin than any of you, because he knows what he wants and goes after it!"_

He didn't feel like he did, but maybe... Oswin was in Ravenclaw, after all. She probably noticed things he didn't. He was determined, that much he knew, but did that translate to ambitious?

The crisp autumn air stung his face as he got dangerously close to the Forbidden Forest. Suddenly, the sky seemed much greyer than it had a few moments ago. A huge wind whipped in his ears, and he heard a howling sound from within the woods, which made him jump. A steady rain started fall all around him, and the wind gathered speed and strength. Most would've headed for cover, but he found himself enjoying it.

He sat down on the cool grass, under a huge flat leaf that protected him from the rain. He watched as the grounds were coated with a thin layer of rain, and as the wind tugged the lake this way and that. It was hectic, and Cameron sympathized with it.

He waited for nearly two hours, just watching the rain fall. He found it most soothing. It reminded him of home- of Heather March, where it rained all the time. When the rain finally stopped, he stood, brushing himself off, and made the trek back to the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey gave him a stern lecture, berating him for staying outside in that rain, and made him drink a pepper-up potion, which helped, but left his ears steaming.

* * *

The next day, Cameron was allowed to leave the hospital wing after lunch. He showed up late to Potions, and Snape sneered at him because of it.

Cameron just rolled his eyes and handed the Professor his note. He took his regular seat with Helen and Theodore, the Gryffindors who were rather nice to him.

"Hey," Helen greeted him. "Where were you?"

"Hospital wing," he answered, shrugging and starting to work on his potion.

"Why?" Theodore asked, tipping his head slightly.

"Got hit with a spell. It cut up my arm." Cameron shrugged again, as if it didn't matter. He looked up to see them staring at him. "It's fine now, see?" He raised his arms for them to see.

He spent the rest of the class working on a potion to make skin clear. He dripped some into his vial and turned it in.

"Mr. Deligure?" Snape stopped him.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Stay after class, please."

So Cameron waited for the rest of the students to clear out, and then turned to Snape. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

"Mr. Deligure, Madame Pomfrey informed me that you were hit by Avis, and arrived in her hospital wing with a arm covered in cuts, and a scratched face." Snape continued, "But upon further inspection, she found that you were suffering from exhaustion, and you were very malnourished. As your head of house, it's my job to ask you if everything is all right?"

Cameron decided to lie. "I'm fine, Professor. Just a little stressed, and homesick."

Snape looked at it for a moment, as if knowing that he was lying. Cameron had a sneaking suspicion that Snape could read minds.

"If you are lying to me, Deligure, I have ways of finding out." Snape assured him. "Be careful where you step."

Cameron nodded, gulped, and left the class. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering why on earth Snape was almost protective of him. Shaking his head, he headed to the library, wanting to get caught up on his classes.

Even still, he couldn't stop wondering.

* * *

**Authors Note: This chapter was posted unedited, and for that I feel the need to apologize. I also want to apologize for how long it took me to edit it. **

**Special thanks to my new beta reader, Moon Lantern! **

**Okay, so now to explain a few things. **

**1) I just moved _across the world. _I am now living in England rather than Canada! This is super exciting, but it means that I'm going to be very busy for the next little while. I don't know when I'll get the chance to write chapter ten. **

**2) Believe me, I do have plans for the next several chapters, but I don't know exactly how to execute them. Please give me time. :) **

**3) Finally, thank you to everyone who takes the time to comment and favorite. It means a lot to me. **

**Thanks for reading! **

**xx Lion**


	10. Chapter 10: The Charm of Relaxation

Oswin Helena Rosewood was a very clever girl- she considered herself able to notice things that others didn't. For instance, she noticed that ever since Halloween, Cameron was a lot more careful. He carried his wand with him everywhere.

However, he was also much more brave. He continued to sit with the Slytherins no matter what. He seemed much more at ease with which house he had been put into, even using his extreme cunning to get out of the occasional class. It was sort of amazing to witness such a transformation.

The day before the last Quidditch match of term, three Ravenclaws and one Slytherin were in the library, making more noise than was probably necessary, and getting away with it, thanks to a clever spell Kimmy had found.

Cameron had sneaked some sweets from dinner, and they were tossing them back and forth with grins. "I got Merlin again." Kimmy sighed, tossing the Chocolate Frog card into the ever growing pile of Merlin's.

"Seriously? That's the fifth one today!" Oswin laughed, taking a bite of a candy apple.

"I think we're cursed." Clara said thoughtfully, turning another page in the book she was studying from. "So, who are you guys rooting for at the match?"

"Slytherin." Cameron stated with a shrug. "Sorry, guys, but I do want to get the house cup this year."

Kimmy rolled her eyes. "Everyone's hoping Gryffindor will win. I'm surprised you're cheering for your own house, Cam. I thought for sure you'd join with the crowd."

"Hey, hey, hey! The house that wins the cup gets the Great Hall decorated after them, and I heard rumors that they also get extra pudding." Cameron protested. "I can't exactly sit with the Gryffindors, can I?"

Oswin shook her head. "Actually, I've heard that you get along good with two rather popular Gryffindors- Helen and Theodore?"

"Yeah, we sit together in Potions. How does that relate to anything?"

"Cam, you're one of the bravest people I've ever met. Yes, you're cunning, ambitious, and amazingly persuasive. Those are all Slytherin traits, but you also have a very brave streak- I think you'd fit in there." Oswin shrugged, tossing the apple core away and grabbing a Chocolate Frog. "I swear, if this is Merlin again..."

Clara laughed, making a note of something in her book.

"Oi, Clara, why aren't you having any of these sweets?" Kimmy asked.

"I have to study, I'm really worried about this Potions exam." Clara replied, brow furrowed. "I probably shouldn't be hanging out with you at all..."

"Clara." Cameron interrupted. "That's my best subject. Just let me teach you?"

"Fine, tomorrow- after the match." She agreed, closing her book and grabbing a Chocolate Frog. "Merlin again!" She and Oswin exclaimed in unison, checking their respective cards. They burst out laughing, and it seemed Kimmy's spell had worn off, because they were kicked out of the library, with shouts of: "Too loud! Is that chocolate? Out, get out!" following behind them.

* * *

The Quidditch match, Oswin noticed, was really a turning point for Cameron. He sat with his housemates in the stands, his scarf tied around his neck, the green matching one of his eyes.

Oswin had sat with her brother, also in the Slytherin stands, as she would also be cheering on Slytherin. It was in her blood to root for them, at least one Ravenclaw wasn't playing. She had just been surprised at Cameron's choice.

_Gryffindor would've been a good place for him, if it wasn't for his need to prove himself,_ Oswin thought. It wasn't something that could be helped, but she still wished that he'd been put in a more accepting house.

The players took to the pitch, and she saw Cameron jump up. He never failed to seem awed at magic, which probably wouldn't help his house situation. Still, it was rather nice to see him cheer along with the rest of his house when the star Chaser (a seventh year called Judith Murphy), scored the first goal of the game.

With excitement running as high as it was, it seemed that the Slytherin's really couldn't be bothered with Cameron, which was a blessing, in a way.

The match went on this way- right up until the Seekers were racing neck to neck towards a little ball- the Golden Snitch.

Cameron was on the edge of his seat- though most people were. The Seekers, a sixth year boy called Rodoff and a fourth year girl known as Murray, pushed back and forth at each other, fingers straining to touch the Snitch.

And then, before anyone saw what happened, Murray was in the air, her hand reaching towards the sky in triumph. "Murrary gets the Snitch! Murray gets the Snitch!"

The Slytherin stands had erupted into cheers so loud that many missed the last of what the commentator said: "Slytherin wins two-hundred-fifty points to one-hundred-seventy-five!"

Oswin jumped down the stands and landed on Cameron's back; he stumbled, but regained his balance, holding her up as the two celebrated with cheers.

"Slytherin won, Ozzie!"

"Ozzie?" she repeated, laughing.

"Seems fitting!" was all Cameron said in response, and he turned, running down the steps and onto the pitch, still holding Oswin on his back. The cheers were deafening, and Cameron glowed when a Slytherin boy his age punched him lightly on the arm, saying: "We won!"

* * *

Slytherin had taken the lead in the house cup, and everyone seemed so relaxed, yet excited, that Cameron didn't half mind his house anymore. More than eighty percent of his housemates still avoided him, but Oswin's brother Rodger had taken a sudden liking to him, along with a couple of the other first years.

He flopped into a chair in the library, where his three friends were waiting for him. "How's your house treating you, Cam?" Clara asked, pushing her Potions essay toward him. He'd promised to look over it once she'd finished.

"It's actually gotten a lot better since the match. I still don't really like sitting at the house table, and I prefer to avoid the Common Room, but at least I'm not scared to go to sleep any more." He shrugged.

"I'm telling you, Cammy," Oswin cut in. "You should try sitting with the Gryffindors- they're a lot more understanding then the Slytherins make them out to be."

Cameron held his hands out, palms up defensively. "Alright, alright! I'll give it a try tomorrow! But is it really smart to sit with them right after getting along with my house, Ozzie?"

Oswin shrugged, returning to her book.

Kimmy looked between the two of them, laughter bubbling in her throat. "When did these nicknames come on?"

"Yeah, when?" Clara asked, gesturing for Cameron to look at her essay, which he did, leaving Oswin to answer.

"After the match," she said with a grin. "He called me Ozzie, so I called him Cammy."

"Isn't Cammy a girl's name though?" Kimmy asked, biting her lip to keep from giggling.

"Maybe," Cameron answered, making a tick on Clara's essay. "But I don't really mind."

They all worked through their homework; although Cameron was far more focused on Clara's essay, as his only homework was some reading he could do before bed. "Clara, this essay is fine. You really had nothing to worry about. The only thing I'd take out is the line about Moonstones; it doesn't fit with the rest of the essay."

Clara smiled thankfully at Cameron, and he laughed. "You shouldn't worry so much, Clara."

* * *

The next day, Cameron took a seat at the Gryffindor table for dinner. No one from his house even noticed- they were so used to him sitting other places it didn't even register. They seemed to have forgotten about him, which he didn't really mind.

The Gryffindors didn't really react either- maybe they'd heard about him, or maybe Oswin was right about them, but Cameron suspected it was a combination of both.

He cut into his steak, lifting the bite to his mouth. Suddenly, he heard a squeak coming from his plate. His gaze dropped, and he found- much to his surprise- that instead of his steak, there was a little white mouse. "And... I'm a vegetarian." he stated, dropping his fork.

Looking across from him for the culprit, he found a pair of red-headed twins. "What's a Slytherin doing at our table, Gred?" said the first.

"Eating mice, it would seem, Feorge." replied the second. (Lower cases for the "said" and "replied)

Cameron rolled his eyes, picking up the mouse from his plate. "I wouldn't eat a cute little guy like this!" He nuzzled the mouse close to his face, and it nipped his nose affectionately.

The Gryffindor twins laughed. "We're Fred and George." they said together, sitting down across from him. "And who are you?"

"Cameron Deligure; why do you ask?"

"Oh, we've heard about you!" one of the twins exclaimed, nudging his brother.

"Yeah, Theodore was telling us about you while we were playing Gobstones. You got hit by a Avis a couple weeks ago and spent two day's in the Hospital Wing. Little weakling, aren't you?"

Cameron choose not to reply to that and instead ate a forkful of peas from his plate, and placed the mouse on his shoulder. "Alright, I'm going to go to class, but thank you for this very warm welcome. I'm sure I'll see you again at supper."

He stood, and walked past the Ravenclaw table, just to whisper: "You were right Ozzie, I like it there." in her ear, before leaving the Great Hall.

The Ravenclaws didn't like him; the Hufflepuffs were overly friendly (at least in Cameron's mind.); and the Gryffindor's seemed like a good fit for him to make friends with. Even if he was beginning to fit into his house.


	11. Chapter 11: A Miserable Affair

Dinner was a miserable affair.

There is a good reason for that fact. After lunch, Cameron had taken the little white mouse and headed off the class. As he walked, he ran through his personal opinions on each house.

Ravenclaw, he'd found, were very clever. Clever to the point of irritating, at times, with a love of things that challenged them. As virtually all his friends were from Ravenclaw, he could say with confidence that they were some of the brightest students in the school.

Hufflepuff were wonderful, he couldn't deny that. In his experience, he'd found them to be extremely nice, offering help whenever he needed it, including him in their conversations. However nice that change had been for him, he eventually found it making him uncomfortable. Cameron didn't feel like he could accept that help, when he knew in his heart that he couldn't (or wouldn't) pay them back for it.

Then came Slytherin. The cunning, ambitious, and borderline cruel house that he was a part of. Cameron had found, when he searched, that he did belong their, even if his other housemates didn't see it. He didn't particularly like sitting with them, and the common area gave him chills. They way they had treated him before made it difficult for him to put up with their sudden acceptance.

Lastly, Gryffindor. As far as Cameron could tell, they were fun, adventurous, and happy. It was common knowledge that the Gryffindor table was the loudest at meal times, but having just experienced it, Cameron could say that it was more than noise, it was fun. They seemed to him like nice people who didn't mind getting into a bit of trouble. As much as he was a Slytherin, he found that Gryffindor was where he was most comfortable.

It was with this happy thought in mind that he entered the Transfiguration class room. However, his happy mood wasn't to last.

Classes went on as they usually did; Cameron did his work, his classmates let him be. Maybe they accepted him, but they weren't his friends- Cameron doubted he'd ever make a friend in Slytherin.

Just before dinner, Cameron had a break. He usually met up with Clara, Oswin, and Kimmy, but today Oswin had to meet with her brother (Cameron had wondered why, but didn't ask), and Kimmy had joined a study group. So it was just Cameron and Clara.

They hadn't hung out their own for months, and Cameron found himself looking forward to it. Until, of course, he saw Clara.

Her eyes were bloodshot, her normally neat braid was ruffled, and her uniform was crumpled in the front. "Clara, are you okay?" Cameron asked, rushing to her side.

"No, Cam, I'm not!" she wailed. They were outside, and luckily far away from anyone else. "I got a Poor on my Dark Arts exam! I can't keep up with my school work any longer, Cam! I don't belong in Ravenclaw!"

"Shh," Cameron said, enveloping her in a hug and placing one hand on her hair. "Shh, Clara don't say that."

"But Cam," she sniffled. "No one else in my year is doing that! It's just so stressful, and I can't do it, I can't!"

"If you're that worried, why don't you join the study group with Kimmy?" he suggested.

"But what about you?" Clara asked, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. "I can't just leave you alone!"

He held her out at arms length and looked her in the eyes. "Clara Keep, don't you worry about me! It'll only add to your stress! I'm fine. Things have gotten so much better for me! You need to stop worrying about me. And what's more, is that I can assure you that you do belong in Ravenclaw. I've seen the way you think, Clara. It's incredible. Just because you're falling behind a little bit doesn't mean that you don't belong there."

She sniffled again. "You mean that?"

"Course I do," he assured her.

Clara threw herself towards him, sobbing and hugging him. "Oh, Cam you have no idea how much that means to me. I've been so worried that I didn't belong there because I wasn't as smart, or studious or-"

"Clara, you're suffocating me."

"Oh- sorry!" Clara stepped back a bit. "You're sure that you're okay?"

Cameron nodded. "Sure I am. Besides, I've got Helen and Theodore to hang out with if you want to go to the study group."

She hugged him again, quickly, and then ran off. He smiled as he watched her go, and set about trying to find Helen and Theodore. They had invited him to hang out with them.

The little white mouse, who had been sleeping in his pocket the whole afternoon, poked his nose out and sniffed. Cameron laughed lightly, and placed the mouse on his shoulder.

"You're going to need a name, you know,"Cameron muttered to it. "What about James?" The mouse visibly recoiled, so Cameron tried again. "Hamish?" It turned away from him. "Alright, alright... Matthew?"

At this the mouse perked up, snuggling into Cameron's neck. "Matthew it is then."

Laughing, Cameron didn't notice as he walked right past Janice Foster.

"Deligure's talking to himself!" she taunted.

Cameron spun around, regarding her warily. He hadn't forgotten the duel. "What do you want, Foster?"

"You cheated at the duel," she scowled.

He rolled his mismatched eyes. "And you didn't?"

"I had nothing to do with the others attacking you!"

"I was warned, Janice. Don't even pretend," Cameron glared at her, crossing his arms.

Janice Foster strode over and shoved him, hard, so he stumbled backwards. It was then that Cameron noticed the two others behind her; a tall, thin boy with square glasses and a passive smile; and a slight girl with flaming red hair.

The boy, who Cameron thought was called Kieth, stepped forward and shoved Cameron again. He fell them time, onto the dirty ground that was still slick from the earlier rainstorm.

Janice had torn his bag from him shoulder by this point, and was rummaging through it. "A letter from home," she cooed. "Oh, how sweet! The Mudblood has a girlfriend! She's probably just as useless as him!"

Cameron was on his feet in two seconds flat, and before he knew what was happening, he was pinning Janice to the tree behind her, his arm against her throat. "Don't you dare talk about her that way! She is so much more than you will ever even dream of being!"

Janice scratched at his arm, struggling to breath, but Cameron didn't care. "You can insult me all you like, but you will never say one word about her, you got that?"

Janice nodded frantically, and Cameron let her go.

Just then, Professor Snape swooped down on Cameron. "Mr. Deligure!" he snapped, and Cameron's eyes widened. "Come with me. Mr. Lowry," he addressed the boy. "Get Ms. Foster to the common room."

Cameron followed behind Snape, feeling sick. Had he really just done that? Snape lead him into the dungeons, where he sat Cameron down on one side of his desk.

"Mr. Deligure, what was that I just saw?"

Cameron would've used some sort of excuse, had he not he felt so guilty. "Janice Foster insulted someone important to me, and I snapped, sir."

"Tell me what happened."

Cameron relayed the story, making sure to tell all the facts. "I know I'm a Mudblood, and I can deal with that, but when they insult Mariah, I can't. She doesn't deserve to be insulted."

Snape flinched. "Don't call yourself that."

"Why not?" Cameron insisted. "It's what I am! I'm a Mudblood and I'm proud of it!"

"Twenty-five points from Slytherin, Mr. Deligure. Go to dinner."

Dinner was a miserable affair. Even though he hadn't got into much trouble, Cameron felt so unbelievably guilty. It gnawed away at him, until he pushed away his plate and stared at the table.

Helen and Theodore, who were sitting across from him, looked up worriedly. "Are you alright, Cam?" Theodore asked.

"I'm fine." Cameron mumbled.

"Obviously not." Helen persisted. "What happened?"

Cameron stayed silent for a moment. "I really hurt someone today. I need Oswin." He added as an afterthought.

Helen and Theodore didn't push any more.

After dinner, Cameron found Oswin in the library. "Ozzie?" he said quietly.

She looked up, and the anger that had been on her face melted away. "Cammy, are you alright?"

He shook his head and sat down, shoulders slumping forward. Before he knew it, he'd spilled out the entire story. Oswin listened carefully, and when he finished, she rested a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, Cam..."

She decided then and there that she would make sure Foster got what was coming to her. Christmas break was in two weeks, which was the perfect time to strike.

"Foster isn't gonna let up, Oswin. There's no way. She hates me! I don't want to hurt anyone again. I don't know what to do."

"Just try and make in until Christmas break... It'll be alright. I promise."

Already, a plan was forming.


End file.
